


Playlist

by ShepherdOfMusic



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepherdOfMusic/pseuds/ShepherdOfMusic
Summary: Armageddon has ended and the world moves back to normal. Except that it seems much too normal for one demon on Earth. Things are different and he knows it. Desperate to reach out and get closer to Aziraphale, he does so with one thing he knows: music. Armed with his Velvet Underground and a relic that is a CD player from the 90s, he sets about his mission. Except he didn't count on two things:1) How eager Aziraphale was to become closer to him as well2) Just how easy it was for the angel to get swept up in another of Earth's delightsWritten for the Good Omens 2019 Big Bang!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34
Collections: Good Omens Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What started out as inspired by my own passion for music ended up as a love letter to the [i was born to love you; ineffable husbands.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/26Cn520JzgVR51vi9uv8iu) playlist on Spotify. Do give it a listen~
> 
> This is my longest completed fic to date, so honestly I wanna take a quick moment to thank some people in this:
> 
> Kate, my beta, who seriously improved some parts and gave some great feedback as well as was a wonderful and supportive reader for my drafts! <3
> 
> [Katy133](https://www.deviantart.com/katy133) who designed the banner and the gorgeous illustration of when Crowley first arrives!  
>    
> [read-and-write-](https://instagram.com/hiiamtired_?igshid=38vvxjk1mwia) who illustrated the three adorable mini comics! 
> 
> And finally The Four Horsemen who ran this event like the absolute gods they are and all the people on the Discord who helped with my questions and were amazing people to chat with (even though I was like barely on there... (￣▽￣;;)ゞ ) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

* * *

  


* * *

The morning was soft. Sunlight filtered over the streets, reminiscent of a hazy summer morning. The people of London moved about their day, almost as if Armageddon never happened. And in fact, it had not. The world would never know how close it was to its own destruction. Only a handful of beings were aware of this, only enough people to fill a smart apartment overlooking the town.

One of these beings was currently behind the wheel of a black 1933 Bentley, which was racing its way down the street. Despite roaring down the road at an incredibly dangerous speed, if one were to sit beside the driver, the mood within the car would be jarring to say the least.

“ _Thought of you as my mountaintop…_ ”

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Crowley’s head gently bobbed to the beat of The Velvet Underground as he swerved to narrowly avoid someone who dared to try to walk across the street. He paid no attention to the furious cries as he zoomed away; in fact he barely gave half a mind to anything on the streets. His mind was miles away, above the clouds as he mulled over the past few weeks.

With the end of The End, life had slowly moved back to being normal. Adam and The Them quickly went back to their games and adventures in the woods, with the easy re-adjustment that only children are capable of. Madame Tracy and Shadwell seemed to be doing well, not that Crowley really kept up with them. The last he heard was that they had a tentative plan to move away together. Anathema and Newt, having grown quite close from the prior events, now lived in Tadfield in Anathema’s cottage. Crowley and Aziraphale occasionally visited for the afternoon. While somewhere in the state between acquaintances and friends, Crowley knew the angel often enjoyed tea and chatter with the witch and so would often accompany him just for the sake of it. Speaking of the angel…

“ _Only proves you're my best friend…_ ”

With no superiors breathing down their necks, and no duties to worry about anymore, the two immortals were free to do as they pleased. Many nights were spent talking about the world over glasses of wine without a care. Life had settled down to what could only be seen as normal.

Except, it seemed too normal.

There was this space between them. It wasn’t a bad thing per se; it was just odd. Given what had happened or nearly happened, it was to be expected that things wouldn’t be the same. 

But they remained as they always had been, ever since time began. 

His hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, Crowley made a quick U-turn that was certainly illegal. The demon had a pit stop he needed to take.

“ _Linger on your pale blue eyes…_ ” he mouthed along. Pale blue eyes, indeed. He’d do practically anything for those eyes. 

The bookshop was dark, slightly musty, and only a little dusty. But that’s exactly how the angel loved it. It was a miracle to see it returned to its former glory, and Aziraphale knew a thing or two about miracles. 

Walking among the bookcases and returning the occasional book to its proper place, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Not a single stack of books was moved, his desk was still as cluttered as always, and there was that delightful scent that seemed to be a mixture of old books and the earthy smell of cloves. It was nearly perfect. There was only one thing that was out of place.

With a glance at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the shop, Aziraphale noted that, while not technically late, Crowley was later than usual in his arrival. It should not be a need for concern really. The demon now had the whole world open to him. There was plenty to do, lands to see, and who was he to fret over whether he was on time when there was no specified time? He had confidence in the demon that he would be fine. Still, Aziraphale couldn’t help the sliver of concern when it came to the being closest to him. 

He really had no need to fret, however. Moments later, the aforementioned demon strolled through the door as if nothing were amiss. While that fact was true for both parties, Aziraphale felt some worry dissolve from his shoulders.

“Crowley! I was just starting to wonder where you were. Nothing amiss, is there?”

“’Course not, angel. Just had a minor unexpected side trip to make before coming here. You weren’t worried were you?” Crowley peered over the top of his glasses with a slight smirk on his face.

Relieved that nothing was truly wrong, Aziraphale finally relaxed and placed the remaining books on a nearby pile. “No no, I know you can handle yourself just fine. It was just getting a bit later than our normal time so- oh, never mind!” He cut himself off with a wave of his hands and strolled over to the demon’s side. “Tell me. What mystery had you disrupt your usual routine?”

“Oh, you’ll see in just a moment. Just wanted to pop in before I brought it in. Always got to build up the surprise, y’know.” Without another word he waltzed right back out of the shop, leaving Aziraphale pondering exactly what he meant. 

If the angel thought Crowley’s entrances could be dramatic, it was nothing compared to when the demon finally crashed through the shop doors struggling to fit a wide black box through the doorway. Aziraphale’s idea of a new wine to try as a surprise dissolved immediately as he raced over to help.

“Goodness, Crowley what are you doing? What is this thing?” Pulling the doorstop up, he opened the second door to allow Crowley to stumble through the door.

“It’s… the surprise!” He hefted it up onto a nearby table quickly, knocking a few books to the floor in the process. Peering over the box carefully, he frowned and turned back over towards the angel. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

With a small sigh, Aziraphale scooped them up and deposited them onto a nearby pile. “It’s quite alright, really. No harm, no foul, right? Now tell me, what exactly is this? When you said surprise, I hadn’t really imagined this…” His curiosity had quickly overwhelmed his dismay at the tumble his books had taken. 

“This, my outdated angel, is a boombox.” With a flourish of jazz hands, he revealed the front of the device. Wider than it was tall, the front of it was decorated with more knobs and buttons than the angel knew what to do with. He poked and pressed a few of them with no result. 

“A boom… box…” Suddenly he snatched his hand back, a scandalized look on his face. “It’s not going to explode now is it?”

A laugh escaped Crowley’s mouth. “No no no, not that kind of boom. ‘Sides, nothing is going to work until we plug it in. Where’s the nearest outlet, angel?” After pondering for a moment, for he really didn’t have too much that needed electricity, Aziraphale pointed out the front desk that was more for keeping dust than for selling books. Crowley immediately scooped up the black box and swung it onto the desk, releasing a small cloud of dust.

“Your customers must love the atmosphere of this place,” he coughed out as he waved his hands to clear the air. “I’m surprised people haven’t tried to call the health department here yet.” Grabbing a long cord from the back, he circled the desk and crouched out of sight for the moment.

“Oh, hush. You know quite well I’d rather part with as few books as possible. If it deters potential customers then, well, it can’t be that horrid.” A noncommittal chuckle was the only response Aziraphale received as Crowley busied himself with the strange piece of technology again, not the least bit concerned about the possibilities of future explosions. He did not expect much out of the box until Crowley managed to plug it in, however, he was quite surprised when the push of a button opened a small door on the front. There was nothing inside but electronics. Given his history or lack thereof with electronics, this only served to make the angel more curious. 

There was a cry of triumph as Crowley reappeared, covered in only a light layer of dust considering his surroundings. Brushing himself off as he rounded the counter again, he flipped a switch and pressed a button on the front. A small red light started blinking at the top of the box before it quickly turned into a blinking zero. 

Aziraphale waited another moment before speaking. “Well, it’s certainly a little… Well, it was rather anticlimactic given the circumstances…” he trailed off, staring at the machine intently as if to command it to do something.

“Oh, angel, that was just a test to see if it still worked. Now, this is why they call this a _boom_ box…” His voice dripped with mischief, the grin growing on his face as the demon turned the biggest dial on the front as far as he could. He pressed one final button on the boom box. There was a brief pause. Suddenly a song blared through the speakers; startling the angel and making the grin on the demon’s face grow improbably wider. Despite it being a gentle and melodious guitar solo, the song pierced through the shop and no doubt bled its way out of the building.

“Crowley! Quiet this thing!” Aziraphale lunged for the boom box, smacking a few buttons in the process but still able to move the knob just enough to lower the volume to a reasonable level. He rounded on the demon, who was leaning against the counter and looking thoroughly amused. “What exactly is the meaning of all this, anyway?”

In response, Crowley pulled a small plastic case from inside his jacket and tossed it to the angel. “We’ve got the entirety of the universe in front of us and I will not stand for you to call this _bebop_.” He turned the volume up only slightly before wandering away, making his way to the nearby sofa and draping himself across it. Taking off his sunglasses and tossing them onto a nearby table, he continued. “So what you and I are going to do is listen to this CD and bring you up to date in the area that is music. Starting with, of course, my recommendations.”

“ _You know, those were different times!_ ”

The stereo continued to sing through this all. Meanwhile, Aziraphale sputtered a bit as he looked over the cover of Crowley’s _The Very Best of The Velvet Underground_. “Oh this is certainly not bebop, I understand that now very well,” he muttered to himself before continuing much louder. “I am not that far behind, thank you very much. Maybe I don’t have a fancy music player or a fast car but mind you I’ve lived the same time as you have. In fact,” at this, his eyes brightened and he pointed at Crowley in an animated fashion, “I actually happen to own my own, err, I have somewhere in my possession a CD of my own. I wanted to share it with you at some point because it reminded me of you but you know how things have been the past years and we’ve been a bit busy with the whole ‘world ending in flames at the hands of a child’ issue more recently but just wait right here!” Aziraphale quickly disappeared afterwards into a side room, a slight bounce in his step from his own excitement. 

“You betray yourself, Aziraphale. This system is far from current,” Crowley drawled from his current position. He listened to the sounds of shuffling from across the room as he mindlessly picked at the sofa. A sudden crash made him wince and his fingers stilled. Just when he was about to call out, Aziraphale reemerged looking triumphant as he held his prize.

“I told you I had one! Though now that I look at the case, it is quite bigger than the one you have…” Crowley stared as the angel trailed his sentence off. Slowly, he picked his feet off the sofa and sat up quietly. Velvet Underground’s ‘Sweet Jane’ tapered off into silence, leaving the shop feeling empty for the briefest of moments before the next song started. Another moment passed before Crowley spoke up.

“I don’t know how you did it. But somehow, you’re so behind on the times, you’re modern.” What Aziraphale held in his hands was not a CD but instead a large vinyl record. The cover was mostly a yellow featuring a charismatic looking man holding a guitar shown from the waist up. Reading the wording on the cover made the demon scoff. “’Devil in Disguise’? Angel, do you even own a record player?”

By this point, said angel had managed to slide the record partially out of its case and was ruefully looking at the boom box. “Yes. Well, I suppose this isn’t going to fit in there now is it…? Well perhaps another time then.” Carefully replacing the record, Aziraphale leaned the record up against the boom box and strolled over to sit opposite of Crowley in a plush chair. “Still, you’ve yet to answer my question. What brought you to bring this box over? It’s quite out of the norm even for you. Not that…” His thoughts trailed off there before he shook his head and miracled up a glass a wine for himself. “Why this all of a sudden?” Aziraphale eyed the demon before taking a sip of his white wine.

_Because things are different._

_Because we are different._

_Because maybe I’m reading into these differences too much but I want to know._

“Because,” he simply said, waving a glass of red wine he did not have moments before. “You’ve indulged in the food, the drink. Why not tempt yourself with another pleasure? What’s the harm? I don’t think my selection is that bad after all.”

“ _But with you by my side I can do anything_.” 

The selection continued to play, Crowley conducting along with his glass dangerously close to flowing over the rim at that point. The shop fell into a comfortable silence again as Aziraphale listened to the end of the song. Sipping his own glass, the angel seemed to pay close attention to the lyrics. A small smile played across his lips.

“No, it isn’t bad at all,” he almost whispered into his glass before taking a drink. “Tell me then, which one is your favorite on this?” Aziraphale asked louder afterwards.

“Number seven,” he replied automatically before his eyes widened. “Ah, sorry wrong CD. I mean nine,” he quickly plugged in, struggling to recall exactly which track that was. To prevent any more slip ups, Crowley downed half his glass of wine in a slight desperation that was lost on the angel.

Meanwhile, the angel peered over the CD case as he read down the track listing. “Ah, I see. Heroin. I’ll be sure to give that a special listen then.”

Crowley nearly spat out his wine as Aziraphale gave a wide smile over to him. With a clearing of his throat, he tried to play it off. “Yes, yes, don’t let the name fool you. I like the… sound of it. The rhythm and all that,” he finished weakly with another wave of his glass. 

“Duly noted, thank you very much my dear. I have to say,” Aziraphale leaned back in his chair as he spoke, “You are quite right in what you say. While not quite as… energetic as I had imagined, this is a wonderful listen regardless.”

“Yes, yes and this is just the start of it all.” Crowley was eager to move the subject on. “You’ve heard my Queen album of course, but it goes far beyond that. Sure, there’s my rock and your bebop. But there’s also heavy metal, country, pop, blues, so much more. The world has moved on since the days of Bach and Tchaikovsky you know. You should really expand your horizons.” Crowley finished the last of his wine and peered inside as if there were some hiding in the recess at the bottom.

Aziraphale had finished his glass only moments before and was taking the time to look, really look at the demon sitting before him as he spoke. He had heard before that the type of music someone listens to can speak volumes but he never connected that with many people. There was the sushi chef at his favorite restaurant, the occasional customer who tried to make a purchase at his shop, and of course the angels in Heaven. However, there was no one else to tell him something new to listen to, no one else who would walk into his shop and toss a CD case at him. Perhaps that’s why such actions from Crowley said so much. He was the closest being to the angel. And it seemed he felt similarly.

Aziraphale placed his glass on the table and got up, wandering out of sight for a moment before returning with a brand new bottle of wine. Topping off Crowley’s glass and then his own, Aziraphale swapped the bottle for his glass and settled back down in his chair. And for the new hour, the two of them chatted as the music played. It became merely background noise as they spoke of music and of new plans and ideas. But it was almost a disappointment when the music stopped and silence filled the shop behind their words. There was a moment of stretching from both parties when they realized just how long they had been sitting there. 

“Well I suppose that’s the end of that,” remarked Aziraphale. A final stretch of his back ended with a satisfying crack. With a roll of his head, he looked towards Crowley. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to perhaps leave the stereo and CD here? Just for the time being?”

Caught about to stand, the demon was stuck staring for a moment. Then he slowly let out a grin. “Full of surprises, aren’t you? ‘Course, I’ll leave it here. You better take care of that CD though you hear? There will be hell to pay if I find a scratch on it.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes but smiled. “You’ll find it returned in its best condition. I’ll treat it as one of my books, of course. Nothing to fear my dear.” Crowley, of course, wasn’t concerned. The act of the threat was nothing more than banter at this point, an empty promise of harm they both knew he would never carry out.

“Would you like my Queen CD as well? Change up the playlist?”

The angel paused before answering. “No I shall be fine with this one. I must confess I tuned it out part way through our conversation. I’d like to give it a proper listen this time around.”

“Oh it warms my cold heart to hear you taking this so seriously,” Crowley teased; and it was partial truth, he could admit that much to himself. 

“Hush,” he replied with a smile before taking another sip. Crowley stood up, making a show of adjusting his jacket before slipping the sunglasses back on. Grabbing the bottle with what was left of their evening’s drink, he walked away and made his way towards the door. The demon gave a gentle push to open the door before he turned back around, fixing the angel in place with a tilt of his head.

“I’ll be by again tomorrow. Same time?” Aziraphale responded with a raise of his glass. Without another word, he left.

Strolling over to his car, the demon pondered the evening’s events. His mind was racing faster than his Bentley through the streets earlier in the day as he got in. But the one thing he could focus on was the record. 

_"It reminded me of you-”_

“Dammit angel what does that even mean…?” He couldn’t fathom a single idea as to what Aziraphale was thinking when he said that. Was it something he saw that he believed Crowley would like? Or did he see the word devil and simply associated it with him? He chose to ignore the slight stab in his heart at the second thought. Instead, he finally turned the car on after sitting outside the bookshop for far longer than necessary. There really was only one way for him to figure it out.

After Crowley left, the evening found Aziraphale sitting at his desk, mending a few of his more beaten down books. The music played in the background, the CD having been played through several times. Aziraphale wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to give it a proper listen. But he would certainly be a liar if he said he didn’t have ulterior motives. 

The angel gave a listen to the track Crowley claimed was his favorite. It was nice, it did indeed have a nice sound, but a song being ‘nice’ did not seem like a decent enough reason for Crowley to like it so much. Dropping his tools, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

“Now which one was before…?”

Almost on an impulse, he scooped up the case and glanced down the listing on the back, trying to recall the conversation. A tap-tap to the beat of the music helped his thoughts and he pushed away from his desk to make his way over to the ever-playing music. With a purse of his lips, he stared at the infernal device for a moment before settling on the button that showed an arrow. After a few attempts, he figured out his way to get to track seven.

Settling back down into his chair, he heaved a sigh and just stopped. 

And listened.

And smiled.

For a while he wouldn’t move from the seat. The only exception was to get up and replay the song over and over again until he finally decided to move his chair right next to the boom box. Bringing his tools with him, he sat and worked to the song that was slowly becoming one of his favorites as well. The lack of light made it hard to see, hunching over his work became strenuous, and his work was not his highest quality due to the lack of a proper place to set the book down. Despite all of those factors, Aziraphale deemed it worth the extra effort. 

A thought made him pause in his efforts however. Setting the book down slowly, he let his thoughts run as he drummed his fingers on the cover of the book. Crowley had been so kind to try to include him in what the demon liked. Perhaps there was a way to return the feelings? The faster his thoughts ran, the faster his fingers tapped until his eyes were wide with excitement. 

Aziraphale nearly threw his tools down in eagerness as he flew back towards his desk. Pulling out a heavyset phone book that was nearly obsolete, he started to scour the pages looking for any numbers that looked like they would be of help. He may not have the clearest idea as to how to get it done but that was not about to stop him. 

The angel had a daring plan in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Boom Box](https://www.deviantart.com/katy133/art/Playlist-Boom-Box-824451152) illustrated by Katy133
> 
> "It's Not Going To Explode Is It?" illustrated by [read-and-write-](https://instagram.com/hiiamtired_?igshid=38vvxjk1mwia)


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning found Crowley in a similar scene as the day before. The only difference now was that, despite the same breakneck speed he swerved around the streets, the driver of the Bentley was in much different spirits. 

“ _But I got wise…_ ”

“You’re the devil in disguise!” He sang along, complete with a shake of his hands that pulled them completely off the wheel. Of course, this was no matter to the Bentley, which continued through the streets as if the being behind the wheel had not been distracted by a catchy guitar solo and started hitting the steering wheel to the beat. 

After leaving the bookshop, Crowley had gone late night driving to find the nearest store that sold CDs. It had not taken long as driving the streets constantly helped to create a mental map of the roads. The satisfaction of being one of those customers right before closing just so happened to be the icing on the cake as he walked out with the CD in hand. It was the little inconveniences in life that made one happy.

Elvis Presley was not one of the artists on Crowley’s radar when he made it big. He had heard bits and pieces; Presley was and is still a big name, who hadn’t heard of The King? But this song wasn’t one the demon had heard before. After listening, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be complimented or wounded from the lyrics. Were the verses what Aziraphale thought of him? What did he mean when he said the song reminded him of Crowley? So he gave another listen to figure it out, and another, then just one more, and it wasn’t long before he deemed the song catchy. The song wasn’t something he considered his style but the demon could see why the singer had made it big. So Crowley decided to take the song as a compliment; for his very convincing and excellent demonic ways that caught people off guard.

Why would he take looking and talking like an angel as a compliment? He was a demon. That was nonsense.

He shouldn’t even consider that was what Aziraphale meant.

Crowley had been thinking about this since the previous night. So when he pulled up in front of the bookshop he decided to end the matter by throwing the case into the glove compartment among his extra pairs of sunglasses. Out of sight, out of mind for the time being. Turning the car off ended the song, so he was mildly surprised to hear the muffled sounds of music still being played. Placing his ear up to the car speaker provided no clues as to why. It wasn’t until he opened the car door though that Crowley realized the music, while still muffled, was much louder and definitely coming from inside the bookshop. 

Slamming the car door behind him, Crowley cautiously made his way up to the doors. It was not a tune he recognized but then again he didn’t divert much from what he liked. This only served to make him even more curious. He opened the door a crack to peer inside.

The music slammed into him, much like what he had done to Aziraphale only the night before. 

The boombox had not moved from its previous place. The only difference was the stacks of CD cases that surrounded it. In fact, the more Crowley looked the more piles he saw. Those around the stereo seemed to be the most organized, only three or four piles. Meanwhile, scattered between the coffee table beside the couch, on the desk, by the window, and even occasionally among the books were cases and piles and stacks. Wordlessly, the demon slipped in and marveled at the chaos he was inadvertently responsible for.

And there, among the chaos putting away a few more books with a skip in his step and a subtle mouthing of words, was his angel.

 _The_ angel, he corrected his thoughts, seemed completely oblivious to his audience. He was only a turn away from noticing so Crowley simply closed the door behind him and leaned against it to watch. His eyes glanced over to the boom box before returning to the show.

“ _Don't go sharing your devotion_ ,” Aziraphale mouthed along as he stretched up to place a book onto the shelf. “ _Lay all your love on me_ …” There was a soft smile to his face as he glanced down to readjust the pile in his hands. Once he turned, said pile nearly toppled to the floor as Aziraphale noticed Crowley standing in the doorway. The angel was frozen as Crowley casually pushed himself off the door and strolled further into the shop. Aziraphale struggled to speak as Crowley stood by the table, picked up a CD from the top and glanced at it curiously.

“Crowley! When did you- I don’t suppose you-“ The words stumbled out of his mouth as he tried to put together his thoughts. “I didn’t hear you come in..” The angel’s words trailed off as a slight pink hue crept up his cheeks, much to Crowley’s amusement.

“That would be because half of the continent of Asia can hear your music playing.” The reply was teasing in tone, which only made the pink more apparent on Aziraphale’s face. “I see that you’ve really gotten into this though. Where on Earth did you manage to get so many CDs?” Replacing the CD on top, he started to rifle down the stack to read the names printed on the spine.

If his hands were free, Aziraphale would most likely be tapping his fingertips together by this point. “Yes, well, I was very much taken by what you said last night. And you know me. I’m willing to try nearly anything. I did a bit of research into the nearby shops and did a bit of running around this morning.” As he spoke, he continued to file the books away, if with only a bit more speed than before. “You wouldn’t believe how many little shops around here sell music. And so many of them still sell these records! I was astounded! There was this little shop over on Greenwich Church Street that held a rather impressive collection…” The more he spoke, the more the words flowed faster and with passion that brightened his eyes. With his hands free of the books finally, they swept and waved as Aziraphale spoke of the friendly conversations he had with the shopkeepers and all the stores he visited.

As he continued on, Crowley stood and listened with a feeling that he likened to pride. This was a result of his own actions. It was turning out even better than he imagined. He took a quick glance at the clock and raised an eyebrow as Aziraphale’s train of thought started to slow down.

“So you’re telling me, you’ve gone around London, amassed yourself a collection of various artists, and it’s only mid-afternoon? Colour me impressed. You’ve got quite the selection here.”

“I don’t quite have your penchant for sleeping. Why waste daylight, I thought to myself?” Aziraphale grinned. “I’m still not quite sure of everything that I have purchased. I didn’t have much to go off of other than what you brought me. So most of the time I chose to ask the storekeepers what sold the most, or perhaps their favorite song. Simple things like that. I’m honestly still in the process of sorting things…” He gave a glance at the various CDs scattered around, a finger carefully tapping his cheek.

Crowley rolled his eyes and grinned. “Alright, I’ll bite. What have you got going on here?”

Just like that, the light behind Aziraphale’s eyes grew brighter, reminding the demon vaguely of the lights during the holiday season. “Well I’m glad you asked! This stack over here I got from a shop down on Creek Road. Most of these are the owner’s favorites, with the stack right next to it are what he sells most. And over here…” Crowley settled himself right down onto the couch. He knew this would take some time. It wasn’t a bad thing per se; he just wanted to enjoy what he heard. 

There was always energy behind his words whenever Aziraphale spoke of something he loved; the beaming smile, the shifting excitement behind his tones whenever Crowley got him speaking of his favorite sushi restaurant, or of the latest wine he tried that he loved. This moment was no different. Having only subtle appreciation for what he enjoyed, Crowley always found it refreshing to see the delight coming from the angel. It was like sunlight to the leaves of a tree. And the pride he wore for putting this all into motion? He’d bear that sin to Hell and straight back into the bookshop.

Likewise, on the other half of the conversation, there was much that Aziraphale enjoyed. But the one thing he loved the most was having someone to share his thoughts with. The angels in Heaven saw no joy in human desires, leaving Aziraphale on the outside of the holy circle. Of course, this never stopped him from continuing to love what he loved but often it was lonely. He knew Crowley’s interests were often different and he had no obligation to stick around and listen. Yet he did. And to see how comfortable Crowley looked on the couch as he listened only spurred the fire within his heart in the moment. There was some truth in the saying Heaven on Earth. Heaven sat in this very room.

“… I do believe that is about it.” Aziraphale wiped his hands together and looked quite pleased with himself as if he had triumphed through some arduous labor. Meanwhile, Crowley lounged on the couch, his left hand cupping his chin as he stared at Aziraphale thoughtfully.

“So you mean to tell me that in the span of… Oh I don’t know. Maybe seven hours? You managed to visit thirteen different shops? Did I count right?” Crowley sat up slightly as Aziraphale nodded with an eager look. “And you’ve already gotten started listening to some of them? Damn, if I had known you’d take to it so well I would’ve forced my CDs onto you a long time ago.”

“Well they do say things happen for a reason. Perhaps if I had given a listen years before now, I wouldn’t have been able to… appreciate them as I do now. I’m sure the lack of impending doom helps the situation as well.” The angel finished with a slight shrug of his shoulders, as if dealing with doom was simply a daily occurance. He set off touching up the stack near Crowley, realigning and fixing the spines of the cases as if it were books upon his shelves. 

On the other hand, Crowley watched not with suspicion but with a curious eye. He glanced slowly over the CDs by the stereo, CDs that Crowley realized were skipped in the explanation of what was where. Before he knew it, his mouth acted quicker than his head. 

“What about those?”

“Which ones?” Aziraphale replied mindlessly as his hands continued without hesitation. 

Crowley gestured with a tilt of his chin. “The ones next to the boom box. Don’t recall you saying anything about those ones.” 

It was then that the hands stopped. There was a moment’s pause before the angel replied. “Ah those? Well those are just the ones I’ve listened to! Some I certainly like while others I’m unsure of as yet. A work in progress of course!” It wasn’t a lie, Aziraphale reasoned with himself. It just wasn’t the complete truth. He couldn’t bring himself to spoil things just yet. It wasn’t ready, _he_ wasn’t ready to be so open. 

“Course. Now don’t stop on my account,” the demon waved a hand. “I’m just here to be a nuisance as usual. Carry on.” 

“Now don’t be like that,” the reply was almost immediate. “You know I value your company. How many others do I allow access to my shop and invite here?” The sound of Broadway show tunes continued in the background, a contrast to the heavy silence in the conversation between the two immortals. Aziraphale couldn’t take back the words, not that he didn’t mean them. They were just the sharp honesty that he usually kept to himself. Wasn’t he just thinking he wasn’t ready? 

Crowley, meanwhile, was rendered speechless. _How do I reply to that?_ Was he expected to say anything? His mouth opened and closed as he tried to process his thoughts. Turning his head towards the bit of light streaming through the opaque windows, Crowley let out the breath he had inadvertently been holding and relaxed.

“Thank you.”

The reply was quiet, soft. It was _vulnerable_ , Aziraphale quickly realized as he looked over at the demon who spoke no more. The silence was heavy once more, but it felt more like a blanket draped over his shoulders during the winter. The angel took in a deep breath as a warmth spread through his heart and a smile stretched across his face. He quickly clasped his hands together tightly before the feeling overwhelmed him and he did something even more drastic. 

Across the room, Crowley shifted on the couch with an exaggerated movement as if to fill the silence of the room. “Now how about you start showing me the results of your work then? You seemed pretty into the music when I arrived so I’d hate to be the one to stop that.” 

Aziraphale seemed to stand up a little straighter at that, causing Crowley to sit up and reexamine his words. Did he say something wrong? Did he read the room wrong? Then what he said hit him like a drop of holy water. _Did he just flirt? Is that how Aziraphale took it?_ And then there was one final thought that almost frightened him.

_I think I’m alright with that, but is he?_

But the moment passed before he could even blink. “Well alright. I’d be more than happy to share this moment with you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even be the one to introduce you to a new group! Give your poor Bentley a break from the same two CDs,” Aziraphale chuckled as he went about scanning a stack, looking for something new. 

“I’ll have you know that my Bentley loves my music choices. It’s why we get along so well,” Crowley sniffed at that as he ignored the thoughts that clamored about ‘sharing the moment’. The only one he paid attention to was the one that whispered about wanting a drink. From a pocket inside his jacket that was impossibly small, he pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir. The cork was miracled away and Crowley took a quick swig from the bottle while Aziraphale’s back was turned. “So. What do you have next on your musical To-Do-List?”

“Well, apparently this one artist is rather popular today with many folks. I believe he might be French? I’m not quite sure…” The angel, by this point, had finally chosen the next disc and had proceeded to load it up into boom box. “Pronounced ‘hose-ee-yay’? I don’t actually recall how the shopkeeper pronounced it.” Aziraphale pressed play before he settled on the couch next to the demon, who wordlessly handed over the wine to share. Looking delighted Aziraphale set the bottle on the table and grabbed a wine glass and notebook from next to him. He topped the glass off and made himself comfortable with the book, an interesting fact which caught Crowley’s eye.

“What have you there? Not usually one to do any writing yourself.” Crowley leaned over to peer at the pages. However Aziraphale was quick to slide the contents out of view. 

“I’m simply keeping track of which songs I’m rather fond of and who they’re by.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague. Let me see. I want to judge your taste in music.” He made as if to grab the book but the angel snapped it shut and held it out of reach.

“You may see the end results once I’m done. If you’re good.” Tilting his chin up slightly, Aziraphale had a smug look on his face as Crowley’s jaw dropped.

“When you’re done? Angel, look at how many you have! That process will take forever,” he cried as Aziraphale stood up and wandered back over to the music player.

“Yes, and it will take even longer if I must restart the songs in order to properly listen to them. Now ease yourself my dear. You’ll see the end results, I promise you. But you must be patient.” Aziraphale seemed to take some amusement out of the situation, something Crowley almost wanted to be annoyed by but couldn’t bring himself to be. He simply shifted himself over slightly to allow the angel to sit back down on the couch. 

The evening dissolved from there. Aziraphale seemed to have something to write for every song that played. Some songs received a quick comment while others were deemed worthy of a few sentences or more. As the night carried on and the wine dissipated, Crowley tried to catch a glimpse of what was being written more and more. The curiosity was still there but the attempts were more just for the sake of amusement, something the angel seemed to pick up almost immediately. A jovial mood settled over the shop as laughter and chatter continued for hours; any silence only lasted as long as it took for Aziraphale to choose a new CD to play. 

Though neither of them were willing to admit it, the night ended sooner than the two immortals would’ve liked. And as the lights of the bookshop faded into the night, the drive back to Crowley’s flat was silent. It was a stark contrast to the thoughts in his head, which he knew weren’t about to be drowned out by any song he could play. In fact, he couldn’t even recall how he managed to stumble his way into his bedroom, let alone drive back home. But as he stared at the ceiling and tried to drift his way to sleep, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from swirling around. All the night’s events rained down on him harder than he could deal with. 

What was he to make of the night? How far was he reading into things? Why wouldn’t Aziraphale share what was written in the pages at this moment? What exactly was written in there that he couldn’t know now? Was he just being too nosy for his own good? Was he asking too many questions? The final question had the only answer he knew but that was simply because he was always one to question too much, ever since the beginning. A groan left his lips, stifled by the pillow Crowley threw over his face. What was he, a horny teenager in a rom-com? Awful, that’s what all this was actually. The demon threw the pillow behind him and sat up, rubbing his forehead. 

“‘Ask and ye shall receive’, huh?” he sighed. “Hilarious sense of humor, really. I wanted change and I got it. Got it right up the…” Deciding enough was enough, a snap of his fingers granted him yet another bottle of wine, this time a Merlot. That was enough of his brain for the night. There was no way in Hell he was going to allow his thoughts to ruin what had been a good day. He’d deal with what tomorrow would bring when it came.

But first it was going to be a long night with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don't Go Sharing Your Devotion" illustrated by [read-and-write-](https://instagram.com/hiiamtired_?igshid=38vvxjk1mwia)


	3. Chapter 3

The morning was looking to be bright. The sky, albeit somewhat cloudy, was clear enough to allow some sun to shine over the town. It almost gave the impression that the prior night wasn’t spent in agony for the local demon. But he sobered up, dressed up to the nines, and was once again making his way to the home of the angel he’d been spending so much time with. 

Today was the day. Despite his speed, he was even doing his best to avoid any unnecessary accidents en route to the bookshop. If he had to stop for any reason whatsoever, the demon was sure he’d lose all the nerves he barely had under control. 

Even though it took slightly longer, Crowley eventually made it to the bookshop. He wasted no time in getting out and slamming the door behind him. He took note of the lack of music seeping its way out of the windows and doors with a raised eyebrow. Perhaps he took the comment from the prior day to heart and kept it down? Nonetheless he marched his way up to the door like a man on a mission and let himself inside. 

In a change from the day before, the bookshop was dark and quiet. Still in the doorway, Crowley leaned back outside and took note of the ‘Closed’ sign flipped to face the public. But that wasn’t unusual; more often than not, Aziraphale forgot or completely chose to deny customers the chance to come in and defile the bookshop’s wares. 

“Aziraphale?” Crowley called out as he took a couple of steps inside. There was no response. 

The demon removed his glasses and tossed them onto the counter to take a better glance around the shop. Noticing a teacup on the table, he strolled over and saw the cup was nearly three-quarters still full. 

“Angel?” There wasn’t any panic now. Of course there wasn’t. He was Crowley. He refused to say he was even nervous. There must be an explanation. Aziraphale rarely left the shop except for a bite to eat. So Crowley reasoned that must be where he was. But a little nagging voice in his head reminded him that it was unlike the angel to leave a cup of tea unfinished like that. At least, that was the case unless he didn’t have a choice. 

This was almost like the time when-

Crowley inhaled sharply, rubbing his mouth and jaw. The breath escaped quickly afterwards, betraying his attempts to remain calm. He stumbled back against the desk by the door, his hands bracing the edge as he wildly looked around the shop. There had to be a good reason. There had to be. Aziraphale-

“Crowley?”

There, standing in the doorway of the shop and bathed in the outside glow that made him seem heavenly, was Aziraphale. His hands loosened their grip on the counter as the angel stowed something within his coat. 

“Angel?” He croaked. He cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. “I was just- I hoped-“ Licking his lips, Crowley tried one last time. “I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“My apologies. I had one last errand to do this morning and I was running rather late on things. I had every intention to be back before you got here but…” The angel waved his hands to finish his sentence as he walked into the shop. As he got closer to the demon, his pace slowed as he gave Crowley a thorough look over. “Are you.. alright? You don’t look at all well…”

“No, no, I’m fine. Very fine. I’m absolutely terrific.” He pushed off the counter and chose to ignore how sweaty his palms had become, opting to quickly wipe them against his jeans. “Listen, I was thinking. You, me, we go out to the Ritz for lunch. It’s been a long time since we’ve gone. Figured it was high time we visited again. What do you say?” Crowley pushed away the thoughts that screamed for him to leave the shop immediately.  _ Play it cool, play it cool _ …

Meanwhile, the angel looked positively radiant at the idea. “Oh, you’re right! It has been quite a while hasn't it? And I’m certainly feeling a bit peckish now… I just need to take care of one thing quickly but then we can leave!” He passed by Crowley, but not before giving the demon’s arm a quick squeeze. 

Crowley only took small notice of that however; his feet were already dragging him to the door. “I’ll just wait out in the car for you then, yeah?” He didn’t even wait for an answer. The feeling of unease crawling across his skin wouldn’t leave until the slam of his car door trapped him away from the shop. 

It was there he sat, his hands idly tapping the wheel as his thoughts raced miles away among the stars, until the opening of the passenger side door pulled his head from space. 

“See? I knew it wouldn’t take me long,” Aziraphale cheerily spoke as he settled into his seat. Once properly seated and buckled in, one hand already gripping the grab handle, he turned his head and gave the demon a bright smile. “Shall we?”

Crowley managed a smile in return. “Of course.” He turned back to the road and peeled away from the curb, missing how Aziraphale continue to stare at him for a moment, a slightly surprised expression on his face. 

It wasn’t until halfway to the restaurant that Crowley realized he had forgotten something. “Shit…” he muttered as he finally realized why the world seemed brighter than usual. “Aziraphale, toss me a pair of sunglasses from the glove box, will you? Guess I left mine back at the shop…”

“Of course, of course,” was the instantaneous reply. However, it was a moment before Crowley realized that Aziraphale was just sitting there. From the corner of his eye, he could see the angel sitting and staring into the box as if he couldn’t see the pile of replacements beneath his nose. 

“Oi, Angel? They’re all the same. Any pair will do.” 

The chuckle in response was surprising to the demon but nonetheless he accepted the pair given to him and slipped them onto his face. “What’s so funny? Wouldn’t be the first time I lost a pair. Extras come in handy.”

“Oh it’s nothing, nothing at all..” Crowley was about to object until Aziraphale leaned forward in the seat, a look of anticipation clear on his face. “Oh look, dear, we’ve finally arrived! I do hope they have a new selection of desserts today. The mousse I had on our previous visit was delightful but I’m craving something a tad sweeter this time…”

That was to be expected from the angel and it was something the demon was counting on. Parking was as easy as a snap of his fingers and soon Crowley and Aziraphale were strolling in for lunch. A table was miraculously open for the two of them and Crowley was quick to grab the attention of the maître d, whispering something quick before receiving a nod in return and following after the angel.

Lunch was nearly perfection. They laughed, they dined, they drank. The food was at its finest as always, though Crowley did spend most of the time picking at his plate while he watched Aziraphale thoroughly enjoy the food. But something seemed amiss. Every once in a while, Crowley would catch Aziraphale deep in thought and had to pull him out of it. Each time the angel waved him off cheerfully, claiming it was nothing. But his head always seemed to return to the clouds, leaving the demon in doubt as to whether or not this lunch was a good idea. All this did was leave his appetite even more sparse than it usually was. Though, the sparkle that filled Aziraphale’s eyes when dessert came out made the entire afternoon worth it.

Crowley, having known that the restaurant was offering tableside crepes suzette as a dessert, knew that this would be a perfect opportunity to be bold, to be honest. But with how the luncheon had gone, he was left feeling like the wind was let out of his sails. So the demon settled with gazing after the angel, content with it despite the melancholy feeling in his chest. 

They left the restaurant in opposing moods; the angel on cloud nine and the demon in low spirits. Aziraphale chatted animatedly about the food and the wine. Crowley spoke not a word, only gave a nod or grunt in agreement to what was said. Neither of them really noticed how smooth the ride was, as opposed to the sharp turns and the squealing of tires they were used to. But somehow it seemed they arrived to the bookshop in record time. 

His mind was made up. Lunch was great, his plan was a bust. Crowley was willing to leave, to go home and berate himself about how awful of an idea this was. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his mouth opened but nothing coming out. He should go. It was a bad idea. Nothing good would come of it. It was-

“Crowley?” 

For the second time that day, he was jolted out of his thoughts. There was a hand on his arm, grounding him to the moment as he met Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“Would you mind coming in for the afternoon? There’s something I’d like to show, to share with you rather.” Something flashed through his eyes but Crowley wasn’t quick enough to identify what it was. “Of course, if you rather not or if you had your plans, I would understand. You’re a busy demon after all and I know you may have your own agenda so fret not if you cannot. I just wanted to offer and keep your company but-“

“Angel, course it’s fine. I have no plans. I’ll stay,” Crowley was, however, quick to pull the angel from his rapidly departing train of thought; quick enough that he didn’t even realize that he agreed to stay. But his feet moved on their own accord and before he knew it, he had the door open for its keeper who was looking quite pleased with the gesture. 

“Thank you Crowley! Please, please settle down on the sofa and I’ll be just a moment. Just a few things to settle myself.” The angel was a whirlwind of activity from there. As Crowley settled on the sofa, he was suddenly offered a glass of wine, which he took with a murmured thank you. From here to there, he was turning on lamps and moving stacks of books from the floor, which Crowley noted as odd. There was a pep in his step though, which came to a point when Aziraphale stopped by the boom box and with a swing, turned with a blank CD case in his hands. 

“You see, you inspired me that first night you shared your CD with me. My thoughts have been running amok since then and I decided to act on them. I have created my own playlist to share with you!” He brandished the case with a wide smile as Crowley sat up a little taller. 

“You… Is that why you went gung-ho with the buying of all these CDs? You could’ve just gotten a radio and started listening to the Top 40 listing,” Crowley chuckled. 

“Ah, but you see, I had a certain mission.” There it was again, Crowley zeroed in. That flicker of emotion through his eyes. Was it anticipation? What was it? But before he could ask, Aziraphale continued on and it disappeared again. “I was on a quest for certain songs, hence my secretive note keeping. But I told you that at some point, I could queue you in it and now that the final product exists, now is the time.” He finished with a slight huff of satisfaction and clutched the case closer to his chest. Without another word, the angel turned around and slid the CD into the player and pressed start. 

“ _ Can anybody find me… somebody to love?” _

Crowley could only let out a bark of laughter as Aziraphale sat down with a slightly smug look on his face. “Really taken with my music huh?”

“Oh hush,” Aziraphale teasingly chided back. “I was always rather a fan of this one. Not all of their songs, mind you. Some were a bit… loud for me. But this one? I enjoyed it a bit.”

Crowley shrugged a little, his mouth turning into a shadow of a grimace before he moved on. “So how did you even do all of this? Last time I checked, this dusty shop didn’t even have a TV, let alone a computer.”

“Well I’ll have you know I had some help with it,” Aziraphale replied in earnest, his lips pursing. “When I expressed my desire to create a CD but had no idea or viable way to do so, I had one of the shopkeepers who helped me express a willingness to work with me on it. That’s why I was so late this morning, which,” it was here Aziraphale’s face grew a little more solemn, “I give my apologies about again. I hadn’t meant to be so late.”

Crowley waved the wineglass in his direction. “No need. Besides, you apologized. I accepted. It’s all fine and dandy.”

“Still, it seemed to be something that was a great bother to you. And that’s what matters to me. So Crowley, I’m sorry.” 

To that, Crowley had no response. The earnestness behind the apology caught him slightly off guard. Instead he clued back into the CD, which had just finished its song and was loading up the next. 

“ _ A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes… _ ”

It was an interesting choice. There was something about the song that made him settle back, and get comfortable against the back of the sofa as he sipped his wine. “You didn’t have to go through all this effort though, you know. You could’ve just showed me all the CDs you liked.”

“Oh no no, absolutely not. That absolutely would not do.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” Crowley pressed. 

Aziraphale met his eyes and he found it hard to keep his gaze on their intensity. “Because this was something special that I wanted to do. Something I wanted to share with you.”

Crowley could only stare for a moment longer before it got to be too much for him. He turned away to sip once more on his wine as he listened to the music. The brutal honesty was almost too much. Once he focused in on the song, truly listened to it, he found himself feeling a little like he was out of air. To remedy that, he started to down his wine, not stopping until the glass was empty. Aziraphale got up and left the room, returning with the rest of the bottle and a glass for himself. He offered a nod as a wordless thanks before Aziraphale topped his glass off. 

Regardless of his personal taste in music, he was surprised to find such a contrast in the genre between these two tracks. Or perhaps he wasn’t, given just how many stacks of CDs were scattered around the shop. So once again he was pleasantly surprised when the strumming of what reminded him of a ukulele accompanied by some snapping started the next song. 

“ _ I have a question… It might seem strange _ .”

The singer was melodious, smooth and gentle as she sang. It seemed to be more along the lines of what he assumed to be Aziraphale’s taste in music. He settled back, relaxing once more as he took another sip of his wine. That is, he was enjoying it until the words of the chorus nearly made him choke. 

“ _ Oh, would you be so kind as to fall in love, you see...” _

Crowley kept the glass to his lips, stealing a glance to the only other occupant in the room. Aziraphale sat quietly this time, his glass to his lips but not looking at him. Instead, they seemed to be purposefully avoiding his own gaze, looking anywhere but over towards him. 

The room suddenly seemed unbearably hot. 

As much as he wanted to enjoy the song, Crowley suddenly felt like his limbs were filled with electricity. He felt restless, but bound to his seat, wanting nothing more than to release this energy but having no way to do so. He resigned himself to listening to the CD, the air suddenly harder to breathe. 

So the music continued on. Song after song filled the room, as each one sang of feelings of love, of happiness, of desire. Not another word was said by either immortal, nor was there any more movement. Crowley was frozen where he sat, feeling like he was listening to the deepest part of someone’s heart, to a  _ confession _ he realized with a sharp breath in. By the time this thought had reached him, Aziraphale had gotten up from his seat and wandered out of sight. 

The electricity coursing through his veins had disappeared, replaced with lead that made his heart feel heavy. Did he mess up? Was he supposed to say something? Was he supposed to realize earlier? Or worse, was he misreading everything? Aziraphale was an angel. Love came with the territory. So maybe he was naturally more attracted to songs that spoke of such feelings. It made the most sense. So Crowley chose to ignore how his heart sank deeper in his chest and his grip tightened on his glass. It made the most sense. The mantra continued on repeat, looping over and over again, growing louder and louder every time until-

A clearing of someone’s throat dimmed the noise in Crowley’s head. He turned slowly to the angel who was standing next to him, his hands clasped together close to his chest. The emotion in Aziraphale’s eyes, the one Crowley couldn’t read, had reappeared and this time there was no hiding. It was a swirl of feelings, of love and fear, of longing and anxiety, and just a touch of courage. 

And it was directed right at him. 

So when Aziraphale reached out his hand, Crowley took it, his head caught in a daze. The angel guided the demon with a gentle pull to a more open part of the room near the boom box; a part of the room that Aziraphale had cleared out earlier when they arrived, a thought whispered through Crowley’s head. How long was this planned…?

A soft chorus of string instruments accompanied by a piano lulled his nerves before they were pulled taut again as Aziraphale guided Crowley’s right arm to his shoulder as the angel’s left arm wrapped around Crowley’s shoulder. A woman’s quiet voice began to sing.

_ “Tale as old as time… True as it can be…”  _

Clasping their other two hands together, Aziraphale slowly eased the pair into a gentle and simple waltz. Crowley’s brain refused to function normally so instead he turned his ear back to the music, his eyes trained on the floor as they moved. 

“ _ Barely even friends… Then somebody bends… Unexpectedly… _ ”

The two danced in a tight box, both moving in a crude yet earnest manner as they tried to sync up their movements. Having spoken not a word, the music was only interrupted by the shuffling of their feet and the rustling of their clothes. Then, in the midst of their dance, Aziraphale gave his hand a quick squeeze and Crowley’s head snapped up to meet his eyes. The blue that he met was practically shimmering, a million emotions and thoughts gazing right through his heart. 

“Ngk,” was his intelligent response. He tried to jumpstart his brain to no avail and he trained his gaze back to the floor, his feet starting to stumble through their movements. 

A gentle squeeze on his hand brought the demon’s eyes back up. “Do you trust me?” The angel asked. The answer fell from his lips, a truth surfacing faster than he could think. 

“I do.” 

There were a million more words he wanted to say, so much more hidden behind those two words that he couldn’t get out. But somehow Aziraphale heard them all the same, for a smile spread across his face that made Crowley’s heart practically soar. “Then follow your heart, my dear.” A term of endearment, used thousands of times before, suddenly held new meaning as the dance continued on. 

“ _ Both a little scared, Neither one prepared. Beauty and the beast… _ ”

“How long has this been in the works?” Crowley asked, finally pulling himself together enough to ask the question. 

Aziraphale gave a small chuckle in return. “The first night you showed me your CD. You spoke with a passion, with a conviction. And suddenly I wanted to hear more from you, see that fire once more. I wanted to feel the same and share my feelings with you as well. And suddenly before I knew it,” he gave the pair a swift turn, the movement flawless as the two synced up at last. “The feelings I wanted to share were the feelings that were the most true and honest part of me. A part of me that I was a little nervous to share,” he admitted. 

Crowley nodded in return. “I know the feeling.” It was quiet for another moment until Crowley spoke up once more. “I have one more question actually.”

“Hm?”

This was when his smile grew devious. “Who’s the beauty and who’s the beast?”

“Well surely you must be the beauty! Well, I mean, by my regards at least.” The angel’s cheeks grew pink at the accidental admittance. 

“Well, that’s true. I do have the charm. And you can be wicked and beastly on occasion.” The grin grew even wider as Crowley suddenly took charge of the dance and moved both his arms to Aziraphale’s back, leaning slightly forward to dip the angel. 

A small noise of surprise that turned into laughter erupted as Aziraphale clutched onto the demon’s arms. “Oh, rude! Perhaps you’re the beast then after all, insulting me like that.” 

“Oh, you know I mean that in only the best of ways,” he replied as he pulled them back up. It was there that they stayed, Crowley’s hands on the angel’s back and Aziraphale’s hands holding onto the demon as the music softly drifted to its end. 

Neither of them could say who moved first. And if anyone asked, they would just say it didn’t matter. First there was space between them, and then that space reached zero as their lips met. It was a gentle, simple kiss that lasted no longer than a few seconds. But those few seconds were enough to convey a lifetime of feelings, millennia of unspoken emotions.

And in that moment the world was changed yet again. 

It wasn’t a groundbreaking, Armageddon ending the world sort of change. It was a change that brought the courage to continue to hold the other’s hand, to sneak a glance at each other as they made their way back to the couch. As they passed, Crowley restarted the CD, much to the questioning look of Aziraphale. 

“Think I got a new favorite, that’s all,” he simply replied. “Plus I’d like give another listen. Don’t plan on leaving soon, if that’s alright.” 

Aziraphale’s smile made Crowley’s heart swell. “That’s more than wonderful, my love.”

The two settled on the couch, the room abuzz with their conversation. If the angel sat a little closer to Crowley, it wasn’t mentioned. And if the demon responded in kind by swinging his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and pulling him closer, nothing was said. And it was there that the two sat for the rest of the night, save only for one of them getting up to start the CD once more every once in a while. The past was behind them, and the future still unknown, but for the present, the two immortal beings found solace in that room and in each other’s company. There was much to be said, much to talk about. But there was all the time in the world for the two of them now. What would be the point in rushing?

After all, the music was still playing for them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tale As Old As Time" illustrated by [read-and-write-](https://instagram.com/hiiamtired_?igshid=38vvxjk1mwia)


End file.
